Heart of a Broken Girl
by NanaNana777
Summary: Beth was used to the way her father treated her the way he did. Didn't mean that she has to like it. One day it goes too far and she finds herself being helped and taken into care by a complete stranger. AU, no zombies.


**A/N: Here it is! What you have all been waiting for! The first and official chapter! Now before you read you should know that it is 3AM where I am and I have been writing this for a long time. There will be grammar and spelling mistakes in here I am sure but please tell me and I will fix that up right away.**

 **ALSO THIS CHAPTER HAS A TRIGGER WARNING FOR PHYSICAL ABUSE! Do not read if you cannot handle it, I will not handle your complaining about it because I have warned you!**

 **Please enjoy as I will now be going to sleep and I shall see you all next time I post. Xx**

"Girl! Bring me another beer!"

The loud wail that could only belong to her old man's voice boomed from the next room. Startling Beth out of her trance like state as she washed the dishes. She knew that when she started doing them that it would have only been a matter of time before he would want another drink. He always wanted another drink no matter what she was doing and it had to be her that got it. He would never get up and get it himself because god forbid that the man actually had a body to move on his own except when dealing punishment or hunting. He was still drinking from last night as he hadn't gone to bed. Despite it only being nine in the morning.

Dropping the scrubber into the murky water and quickly drying her hands with a ratty old tea towel she walked over to the fridge and reached in to grab the beer. They had a whole shelf in the fridge just for beer as it was deemed one of the things in the fridge that takes priority over everything else. The confusion that settled in her when her hand didn't land on a bottle instantly was instantaneous. It continued to grow when she moved her hand around and still didn't land on a bottle or can.

Pulling her hand out of the fridge she took a look and catalogued in her head what they had. Day old milk, three eggs, quarter of a loaf of bread, a tiny stick of butter and the rabbit mean that was going to be cooked into stew for dinner. Beth even pushed the items aside, even though they were small and couldn't hide anything, just to make sure she didn't miss anything. Cursing under her breath when she still couldn't find anything, she pushed the door shut and leaned her side against the fridge. Contemplating on what she should do now.

"Girl! I want my blasted fucking beer and I want it right. Fucking. Now!"

Beth let out a string of curse words as she knew there was only one option that she could do and not suffer a punishment. Reading herself she pushed off of the fridge she made her way over to the cupboards. Dragging her feet as she walked as she thought to herself that this day was definitely not going to be a good one.

She stopped in front of the cupboard as she knew what was stored inside. It held all of the hard liquor or the once full bottles of hard liquor that had been drunk. Beth took a mental note to make a list of all the empty bottles she would have to throw out and get them replaced as soon as she could. Clutter was one thing that she couldn't stand for unless it was organized clutter. Opening the cupboard door Beth grimaced as she saw exactly what was left for her old man to drink. She was conflicted as she knew her old man would either be one of two things. Pleased that she would be giving him something stronger than what he asked for or murderously angry that she would be giving him something he didn't ask or want for. Beth grabbed the glass and made her way to the living room knowing that the sooner she gave her old man the drink the sooner she could get back to her chores, finish them and be able to go outside. Away from him.

She stood in the narrow archway that connected the kitchen to living room, waiting to be noticed. One of the things she learnt in this house was not to interrupt her old man while he was doing anything. Which basically meant that unless he noticed her, Beth had to stand there until he does. However with beer on his mind though she never had to wait long.

While waiting for her old man to notice her, Beth looked around the living room and made a long list of tasks to do when possible, which most likely wouldn't be until one of his drinking buddies came around and dragged him to the pub for a couple of days. The walls could do with a scrub as there were stains from god knows what on them. The carpets needed a good vacuum as there was dirt and mud smashed into it when her old man had come home from hunts and forgot to take his shoes off. Everything needed a good dust off as there was a sufficient amount of dust that dust bunnies would be able to build an amusement park.

She was drawn out of her musing when her old man reached out to take the beer from her, which she didn't have. When she didn't hand it to him right away he cast a quick glance in her direction and she the jar in her hand and smiled.

"Wife, you got my beer? You make sure those kids stay quiet cause if they don't ain't no god gonna be able to save you." He chuckled darkly while his smile grew.

Her old man's chuckle sent chills down her spine. He often got her confused with his deceased wife when he was drunk enough. It had happened often enough that Beth didn't think twice about answering to names other than her own anymore.

"Don't got beer left. Just moonshine." Came her quiet reply as she held out the moonshine jar to him, she knew better then to speak properly in this household.

"Bad moonshine will make ya go blind, ya daft bimbo." Came his retort and Beth knew to be very careful as to what she said next.

"Ya know we don't get bad moonshine," she swallowed thickly and almost threw up with what came out of her mouth. "Dear, everybody knows what happened to Jesse when he brought the bad batch over. There ain't nobody that wants to cross ya."

"Damn right there ain't," Beth let herself relax and slowly went closer to hand him the jar. "But after this jar I want a beer. Don't care if it's warm. I need me a damn beer woman."

"Like we got money left to get ya your god damn beer." She muttered under her breath and looked at the ugly beige paint peeling off of the wall.

"What did you just say?"

Beth's eyes went wide as she felt her brain shut down. She had completely disregarded her old man's ability to hear like a bat with the noise the television was making. She felt herself start to panic and tried to take in deep breaths but her lungs wouldn't cooperate with her. The only time her old man used proper english was when he was furious and when that happened it was best to get out as soon as possible or try to calm his rage down. Which never happened often.

Everything in her body screamed at her to do something. To run and hide. Smash something on his head to gain enough time to flee. Justify what she said with something, anything. Just anything to save herself from him. Instead she made the mistake of looking him straight in the eye. She did the one thing she was told and seen firsthand never do. Not even when he was in a good mood. What happened next will always surprise her. He became rage filled in a matter of milliseconds.

The only way Beth knew that anything had happened was the wind escaping her lungs as she was tackled to the floor and the feel of flesh connecting with hers. His glazed eyes looking down on her like she was scum. She had no idea how his drunken ass had done it but one second he was in his beat up old recliner then he was on her. Pinning her to the ground.

Violent shivers assaulted her body as he moved her wrists into one hand, undoing his belt with the other and maneuvering himself to loop the belt around her wrists, binding them tightly together. Beth could tell that there were going to be colorful bruises there as she felt the belt digging into her skin. Threatening to cut into her skin and draw blood if she tried to move. Effectively cutting off the circulation to her hands.

"I think it's time you learn not to sass mouth me, oh sweet, wife of mine." There was that same chuckle in his words that had sent chills down her spine just moments ago.

Beth knew she could handle whatever he threw her way. The punches all felt the same after a while. She could distance herself while he wreaked havoc on her. She had become immune to the pain her old man inflicted on her a long time ago. The bruises, wounds, aches and pains she was left to tend afterwards always hurt more than the act itself. So when her old man landed the punch to her temple, making her see array of different colored spots, she hardly felt it. The blows rained down on her. Landing wherever he could reach but she could hardly feel it. Not when he hit her shoulder with a force she was sure would dislocate it. Not when he landed multiple in her ribs and stomach, completely winding her and possibly cracking a rib or two.

It was only when she felt the cool linoleum against her chest and stomach that Beth realized her shirt had been removed as well as the belt had been from her wrists. In an instant she knew what was going to happen. Beth had seen it happen once before for a few brief seconds before she fled the sight. A terror she had never felt before filled her to the brim. Whimpers escaped her as she desperately tried to wriggle her way out from under him. Which only resulted in her head being pulled up by the hand in her hair.

"It's been a long time since I've heard you scream. I am going to hear it once more. Make all the noise you want. Here, nobody will hear you."

He got his wish of hearing her scream as searing pain ripped through her as the buckle connected with her back. She couldn't distance herself from this excruciating pain. It was nothing like she had ever felt before. Beth didn't get a chance to collect herself for the next strike as she felt leather connect with her back over and over again. Her screams egging him on as the strikes became harder, if a little slower. She didn't know how much time pasted but her screams eventually became whimpers as numbness began to bloom and the strikes could be felt less.

"Oh no. No no no. You don't get to stop screaming until I have had enough."

The words had only just registered in her brain as she felt the dreaded buckle connecting with her once more. Chasing away the blessed numbness and pain once again bloomed through her. Not knowing what else to do Beth slammed her eyes shut and prayed. Prayed that the pain would stop. Prayed that her old man would get bored of her and stop. Prayed that once she healed from this she would gather her courage and run as far as she could from this life. To someplace nobody would be able to find her. If only he would stop. She would give anything for him to stop and to make her getaway.

It was as if somebody had answered her prayers as the beating did stop. The blows became less frequent and less powerful. Then they stopped and a thud sounded next to her, weight disappeared off of her and she understood. Her old man, being as drunk as he was had finally passed out. This was her chance. With his lack of sleep and the alcohol induced slumber her would be out for hours, maybe even a whole day.

With great difficulty Beth freed herself for the remaining dead weight of her passed out father. Every move no matter how small hurt her body. Adrenalin coursed through her at the taste of freedom so close. Though it might have been blood from cutting the inside of her lip on her teeth she could taste but she was getting her chance to be free.

Beth crawled her way to her bedroom as she didn't want to chance her freedom being taken from her by being overconfident and fainting by standing. Not even with the new found energy the adrenaline pumping through her. The crawl to her room was short and she was forever thankful in that moment that the house was small. There wasn't much in her room. Only a small single bed and a small three draw chest of draws. Nothing in this room had any sentimental value so she had no qualms with leaving anything behind.

Beth crawled to the chest of draws and decided it was time to test her strength. Reaching as far as her arms would let her she opened the top draw and braced herself. She knew that by pulling herself up she was going to cause the pain to flare up but it was something she would have to put up with until she got out of here and somewhere safe. Where that would be she would decide when she finally got out. Clenching her jaw she pulled herself to her feet and she almost collapsed back to the ground with the onslaught of pain that crashed into her. The worst was her back. While it had numbed itself the movement seemed to awaken the pain it was hiding with a passion. The pain reminded her that in order beat her in the first place that he had removed her shirt.

She didn't need to look into the draw to know that nothing in there would cover her back she grabbed a black wife beater and closed the draw. Opening the second draw Beth threw out all the white and grey shirts knowing exactly what she was looking for. She was glad that her old man never looked through her draws. If he had seen one piece of clothing that wasn't hand-me-downs he would have most likely burned it like he did with anything she was given by somebody else. Almost all the shirts had been thrown out of the drawn before she spotted it. A black and dark blue flannel hoodie. It wasn't the hoodie that was important but what was wrapped up inside. A leather vest with angel wings sown into the back. It had been a precious present from her friend, Carol.

The thought of her friends name Beth knew where she had to go. Her old man had no idea about Carol and nobody knew that they were even friends. It was perfect. Beth knew that she could go to Carol to get better from this beating and somehow find a way to make sure her old man would never touch or come near her again.

Without any hesitation Beth pulled the wife beater, hoodie and vest on. Ignoring the screaming pain rippling through her whole body. She was thankful that she didn't have to pull pants or shoes on as at least her old man had left her with those on. The adrenalin that once gave her the energy she needed was slowly starting to fade. Beth figured that if she started making her way to Carol now she would at least make it halfway before the adrenalin wore off. Without giving herself a chance to second guess herself she took a few hesitant pain filled steps out of her room and walked the hallway to the front door. Passing by her drunker man she once called a father on the floor. She resisted the urge to spit on him as she walked past. It would do her little good if she did.

Opening the door and walking out of the house it did take everything in her not to jump for joy, knowing that it would do her move harm than good with the condition she was in, as she was now on her way to freedom.

 **It would please me greatly if you would review, I shall love all and any reviews I get however if you flame I will ignore you, goodnight all.**


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